Mother Knows Best
by Alaska829Snow
Summary: Sequel to "Loved You First:" Snow White realizes her daughter's destiny is tied to her former enemy. Emma and Regina struggle to figure out what Snow already knows. Swanqueen! Will be about 4-5 chapters this time :)
1. Unwanted

Emma turned the knob of her parent's apartment door and let herself in. Snow and Charming had told her she was always welcome in her former-apartment and tonight, after a particularly baffling evening, she was all too willing to take them up on the offer.

"Emma," Charming said, as he turned around from the stove to greet her.

"Hey," Emma replied, "Is mom here?"

"Yup," Charming told her, "I was just making hot chocolate, but she's in the bedroom."

"Do you mind if I steal her for a bit?"

"She's all yours," her father smiled at her.

She knew she had interrupted their night together—but she also knew she needed Snow's input. She knocked softly two times before entering her mother's room.

"Emma," Snow looked up from the magazine she was reading in bed; her face lit up at the sight of her daughter. She had been trying, so hard, to achieve the right balance between showing Emma how much she loved her while not over-whelming her. She knew she didn't always get it right—but, she was trying.

"Hey," Emma said, sitting down on the bed.

"How was dinner with Henry?"

"It was good," Emma told her, "Regina came, too."

"Oh," Snow said, pretending to be surprised. Ever since her talk with Regina, Snow felt much better about their situation. "How was that?"

"Um," Emma began, "I don't really know."

"Why? Are you two fighting?" Snow asked, as she pushed a lock of Emma's blonde hair behind her ear.

"No," Emma shook her head, "no…that's not it."

"What happened?"

"Do you remember right before we went through the portal? When Regina made the hat work?"

"Yes," Snow said.

"Did you, um, happen to see _how_ she made it work?"

"She used magic?"

"Yeah, but—her magic wasn't working…and then I, um, I put my hand on her arm and then…it like, worked."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Emma said, "I'm sure you were understandably too busy fighting that damn soul-sucking monster to notice."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, to be honest, I thought it was a coincidence…. and once we went through the portal we had more important things to be worried about."

"True," Snow agreed. "Why are you bringing it up now?"

"I'm not sure that it was a coincidence anymore."

"Why not?"

Emma took a deep breath. She hadn't been entirely sure she should tell her mother about what happened that night—but she didn't know who else she trusted enough to tell. And she _had _to tell _someone._

"We were at dinner and we were finishing up and Henry went to the bathroom and the waiter brought over the check and Regina tried to pay and I wasn't having it because it was my night for dinner with Henry and she was our guest, you know?"

"Right," Snow nodded, encouraging Emma to continue.

"And my hand touched her arm again and there was like…um, magic? I guess?"

"What do you mean there was magic? What, _exactly_, happened?"

"It's really…difficult to explain; it was like this surge of energy and then I felt like there was electricity in, or maybe on, my fingertips."

"Did you guys talk about it?"

"No; Henry came back to the table before we could."

"But Regina felt it, too?"

"Judging by the massively confused look on her face, I would have to say yes. I just don't get it. I mean, why would that happen? Is it the whole savior thing?"

Snow thought about it—and wanted to give her daughter an answer, but she wasn't sure she had one.

"I'm not sure what that would have to do with it. In fact, that seems counterintuitive. I mean, she's the one who set the curse and you're the one who broke it—you shouldn't be making magic together."

"Rumple seems to think that being the product of true love makes me different."

"Well, he's definitely right," Snow agreed, "but I'm not sure your DNA explains this, either. If it did, I don't know why you would make magic specifically when it came to Regina. Has this happened when you touch anyone else? Like Henry? Or, I don't know…_anyone_?"

"No," Emma said.

"Just Regina," Snow thought out loud.

"Just Regina," Emma repeated.

"I see," Snow said, holding back from sharing the theory she thought might just provide a valid explanation.

"What? There's something you're not telling me."

"You're not going to like what I have to say."

"Spit it out," Emma demanded.

"There's honestly only one reason why I've ever heard of people making magic simply by touching…"

"Which is?"

"True love," Snow said in a quiet whisper.

"Okay," Emma rolled her eyes, "now _that's_ just plain disturbing."

"Don't kill the messenger."

"There is obviously another reason—there has to be," Emma got up from the bed and began pacing back and forth.

"Well, I'm sorry…but I can't think of one."

"I'm the savior, I'm different—there must be some bizarre, fine-print explanation. I wonder if I should try talking to Rumple…"

"First of all," Snow began, "you're _not_ talking to Rumple about this when you're the one who always tells me he manipulates Regina's every move…who knows what trouble he would get you into."

"True," Emma agreed.

"Second of all," Snow continued, "I don't think that you being the savior means that the rules of magic different for you. I'm sorry, I just don't."

"Why does it seem like you're encouraging this? Like you want it to be true?"

"Emma, trust me when I say I sincerely do not want you to be with the woman who has gone after every single member of my family."

"Then why are you being like this? Acting like this is a normal conversation to have."

"I just—you can't fight true love. If this is true love….that means it is destiny—that it can't be defeated. And if it can't be defeated….well, then, I have to accept it—don't I?"

"You're sincerely making me want to vomit up my entire dinner."

"Do you love Regina?"

"I mean…in a 'she's the woman who raised my son' kind of way….sure."

"I think you better be one hundred percent certain that's the only way. Magic is hardly ever wrong. Maybe the magic is trying to tell you something—to look at the situation in a different light."

"First, I have to slay a dragon and break a curse. And now you're telling me that I'm going to fall in love with Regina Mills?"

"Listen, Emma, I'm not suggesting you to march over to her house and share this theory with her. I'm just telling you to listen to the magic. It won't lead you astray. Maybe I'm completely wrong and, trust me, I hope and pray that I am. But, my advice would be to keep your eyes and ears open."

Emma sat back down, sighed heavily and buried her face in her hands.

Snow White looked at her daughter with both sympathy and concern. She knew enough about destiny to understand that it was often ironic, painful and, even more so, unwanted. But that didn't mean it wasn't real. And she knew, for absolute certain, that there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Indeed, when she looked back on her life, it appeared all _too_ likely that her daughter's fate was tied to Regina Mills. Snow, herself, had always been tied to Regina—and it was a bond that seemingly refused to be broken. And in some unexplainable way, she felt like she saw this coming, knew it somewhere deep down inside of her, since the second the curse was broken.

Alas, for now, there was nothing Snow White could do but hold her breath.


	2. The Power of Suggestion

Emma felt sick to her stomach.

She couldn't decide if it was the result of the overly-sweet muffin Snow had practically shoved down her throat this morning or from the overly-horrific theory she had sprung on her the night before.

Either way, Emma accepted the fact that she had a nauseating day of work ahead of her.

And, unfortunately, it was only 10:30 in the morning.

The silence that echoed through the sheriff's station was interrupted by the sound of high heels clicking against the marble hallway floor.

As Emma processed the sound of the familiar walk, she had to momentarily make sure she wasn't imagining it. She had after all, thanks to her mother, been thinking of Regina all morning.

She also had to wonder why, exactly, she knew the sound of Regina's footsteps.

"Hey" Emma said, sincerely curious as to what brought Regina to her office. Ever since the curse had been broken, the former-mayor hadn't exactly been roaming around town. In fact, it seemed it was only when she was out with Emma and Henry that she left the house at all.

"Good-morning," Regina smiled at her, "Miss Swan."

"What are you doing here?"

"I brought you coffee," Regina offered, awkwardly holding out the cup.

Emma had noticed, recently, how uncomfortable Regina was when she tried to be nice. It was clear that it was genuine, but also that she was miles outside of her comfort zone.

"You know my coffee order?" Emma teased, in an attempt to ease the tension.

"You've ordered it in front of me multiple times," Regina replied. "I would hope I'm capable of retaining such simple information."

"Of course," Emma said, taking the coffee from her. It just wouldn't have felt right if Regina didn't try to downplay the extent of her kindness. "This is why you came all the way down here?"

"I actually…I wanted to how you were doing."

"Me? I'm fine…why?"

"Last night," was all the explanation Regina offered her.

"Oh right," Emma said, "last night."

"Yes," Regina confirmed, "you seemed more than a little bit freaked out when you left."

"_That_ didn't freak you out?"

"I'm not really easily freaked out. But I'll admit it was a little….peculiar."

"Should we talk about this _here_?"

Emma looked around the office—and was relatively confident they were alone. But, she had become paranoid. It was apparent to her that the people of Storybrook were not ready to forgive or forget what Regina had done—and Emma worried, constantly, about protecting her son's mother.

"Well, I figured now might be our only chance—I'm picking Henry up from school."

"Right," Emma said. She got up from her desk and closed the door. "Now it is, then."

"So," Regina said, making herself comfortable on top of Emma's desk; she sat down and crossed her legs.

"So," Emma began—standing with her hands in her pockets, "do you have any idea what that was?"

"_That_, my dear, was magic."

"Bravo, captain obvious. I meant _why_. Why was there magic? Why was there magic twice?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"You're the _queen_, aren't you supposed to have all the answers?"

"Normally, yes—but this… this development, hasn't exactly happened before."

"Oh," Emma said, "great."

"Yes….always the quite the pioneer, aren't you, Miss Swan?"

"Apparently so."

"Did you tell anyone about this?"

"Snow," Emma sheepishly confessed, "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for talking to your mother. Did she have anything helpful to say?"

"No," Emma lied, "not really."

She just wasn't ready to say it out loud—especially to Regina. It was hard enough for her to think it—to hear her mother think it. And besides, she didn't know if she would exactly file Snow's theory under "helpful," anyway.

"I wouldn't think so—it's not like she has much experience with magic."

"Well, you are the most experienced one and it doesn't seem to be helping you."

"I wish I had answers to give you."

"You can, at least, answer me this: am I going to have magic every time I touch you?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted.

"Um, well…can we find out?"

"I suppose we can," Regina replied.

Emma took a step closer to Regina and grabbed her hands.

The moment she did, the same, indescribable feelings pulsated through her body. And unlike the previous night at dinner, this time Emma didn't pull away quite so quickly.

When she did, finally, pull away, she pointed her hands at the door—which subsequently flew open and slammed against the wall.

"Woah," Emma said.

"Congratulations," Regina smirked, "and welcome to the wonderful world of magic."

"I just did that," Emma whispered in disbelief.

"Indeed, you did."

"That was….sick."

"That was more like amateur hour—but I'm glad you're so easily amused."

"Does this mean I can only do magic if I hang out with you?"

"You know what Rumple says: all magic comes with a price. I guess yours is particularly painful."

"If that was a joke, I'll admit…it was pretty funny."

"Thank you."

"I guess I'm just going to have to call you if I ever want to magically get remote control from across the room."

Regina's face suddenly grew solemn and serious—"We can't tell Henry," she said.

"Well, no…not until we know what in God's name is going on."

"No," Regina corrected, "I'm not supposed to be doing magic. And I haven't been. He can't know about this."

"This is a little bit different, it's not like you were doing anything on purpose."

"He won't believe me—he'll think I'm trying to hurt you."

"He would never think that."

"He would, and I wouldn't blame him. But I won't know how to explain it. I won't know how to convince him otherwise."

"We could convince him together," Emma offered her.

"Can we just _please_ not tell him? I don't need any more complications in my relationship with him at the moment."

"Okay," Emma agreed, "we won't tell Henry."

"Thank you," Regina said.

"So, I guess that means no floating remote controls for me then?"

"Maybe you should just try to keep your remote nearby."

"Eh," Emma said, "easier said than done."

"And you'll have to keep your hands off me, at least in front of Henry."

"Eh," Emma joked, "easier said than done."

"Yes, well," Regina desperately wanted to keep the banter going—but she couldn't—she didn't know how. "I'm going to…I'm going to figure out why this is happening."

"How?" Emma questioned.

"Like you said, I'm the queen—I'm supposed to have all the answers. I'll find a way."

Emma nodded. "Let me know if you need help."

Regina almost told Emma there was nothing she could possibly do to help. That she was in way over her head. But she didn't. She merely said, "Thanks."

"Yeah, well…thanks for the coffee."

Regina nodded, simply acknowledging Emma's gratitude. And, with that, she removed herself from Emma's desk and left the room.

With Regina gone as quickly as she came, Emma sat back down just as confused, if not more, as when the day began. Instead of focusing on her work—her mind was busy elsewhere. She wondered if she should call and update Snow, she wondered just how much magic she could produce when Regina was around. But, mostly, she wondered why, on earth, she wished Regina had stayed longer—why she longed for her company.

She was hoping it was nothing more than the power of suggestion.


	3. The Charming Factor

"No," Charming said, "this is…this is a practical joke, right?"

He looked around the room, as if he expected his daughter to jump out of the hallway closet and yell "gotcha."

"It's not," Snow promised him. She looked at her husband with understanding eyes. She had wanted, so badly, to put off telling him. And she had, for longer than she was proud of.

For the past week, she had barely slept. She stayed up night after night, staring at the ceiling, thinking of ways she could bring it up. She knew there was simply no easy way to suggest to Prince Charming that Regina and Emma belonged together. But she had planned out the dialog in her head. She was going to take him for a walk—to their spot—and then sit him down and calmly explain to him everything she had been thinking.

But, as usual, things hadn't gone according to Snow White's plan.

After Charming had made a sarcastic remark about Regina's ever-increasing presence in their lives, Snow blurted it out at the dinner table: "I'm relatively sure her and Emma are in love…._true_ love."

Now, she was trying her very best to be patient as he processed the information.

"I think—it has to be—because what you're telling me—it's not possible."

"Do you have another explanation for why they make magic together?"

"I don't know," Charming said, "maybe they're imagining it—hallucinating."

"What are they? Smoking mushrooms in Wonderland?"

"That would be preferable—and more believable. Because this true love hypothesis you've come up with, it's not possible."

"Have you not learned by now that _anything_ is possible?"

"Anything is possible," Charming agreed. "But this isn't anything—this defies the laws of everything that ever existed anywhere."

"I'm not saying it's _definitely_ true," Snow corrected. "I'm sharing, with my husband, something that I've been considering as a possibility."

"If it's true…. I'm going to need my sword. Does Emma still have it? Tell her I need it back."

"Oh, hush," Snow said, not in the mood to deal with nonsense. She wanted him to see her point of view instead of spitting out threats.

"Yeah, you're right—guns are more effective here, anyway. Emma's got a gun, right?"

"And how did it work out for the people who tried to keep us apart with weapons?"

"You can't be comparing us to _them_—you can't be."

She knew she shouldn't have gone there. She was supposed to go easy on him, make sure not to overwhelm him. But she had already said it and she wasn't about to back down. After all, she did, in fact, believe there was a comparison to be made.

"I am," Snow said.

"I'll kill Regina," he yelled. "I'll just flat out kill her. I've lost count of the number of times I should've killed her in the past and now I'm living to regret them."

"Oh, right, that's a great idea," Snow replied, refusing to raise her own voice. "I'll leave you to tell your grandson why his mother is dead."

"He has another one!" Charming screamed.

"Charming," Snow said, more firmly this time, "calm down."

"Regina? You want me to trust Regina with my daughter's heart—when she wanted to rip yours out of your chest?"

"But she _didn't_ kill me…just a harmless little sleeping curse," Snow teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Right," Charming said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I feel so much better now."

"I talked to Regina about this and…"

"Wait a second," Charming interrupted her, "you spoke to Regina?"

"Yeah, I went over there the other day."

"You told me you were going to talk about Henry staying over next weekend."

"Right," Snow said, "well…turns out we never really got to that."

"You told Regina that you think her and our daughter are destined by fate to be together? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No, I just… I just told her that she needed to give me a reason to trust her around Emma."

"And?"

"I trust her," Snow insisted. "I believe her—that she's changed."

"You went to talk to the evil queen about our daughter and you lied to me about it."

"That's your problem, right there. She's _not_ the evil queen anymore."

"You've never….you've never lied to me."

"I had to, okay? I had this feeling in my gut—and I needed to figure out if I thought it was worth saying out loud."

"And, now…. you think it's worth saying out loud?"

"The feeling has left my gut and migrated to my head—and it won't leave. It's pretty much set up camp."

"Regina and our Emma? The baby we had to save from _her_ curse? The savior? It doesn't make any sense."

"But that's the thing," Snow shook her head, "it makes perfect sense to me—perfect, screwed up sense."

"How?"

"I took away what was supposed to be Regina's happy ending," Snow reminded him. "Now maybe, maybe I can give her one back. Maybe this is how I make it right—how it all comes full circle: the product of our true love can give Regina true love."

"Regina doesn't deserve a happy ending. She took her shot at one—by cursing us all to be here. And it blew up in her face. I don't see how it's our responsibility to repair the damage. She doesn't….she doesn't deserve to be happy."

"You don't mean that," Snow said, "everyone deserves a happy ending. And maybe it's not our responsibility—but if Emma is the person for her, we can't stand in the way."

"I don't support this," Charming clarified.

"That's fine," she gave in, "for now."

"I'll never…I won't."

"You will," she insisted.

"Oh yeah?" He challenged her. "What makes you so confident?"

"You're a sucker for true love, Charming. If I'm right—and you see it with your own eyes…you'll be supportive."

Charming sighed loudly. He muttered "we'll see about that" under his breath before getting up from the table and going into their bedroom.

Snow was left alone at the dinner table. It hadn't gone perfectly- but it was out there now.

Maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to sleep tonight.


	4. The Queasy Queen

Henry Mills watched his mother carefully from the back seat of her car as they drove home from school. From the moment he had laid eyes on her, he knew something just wasn't right—that something was terribly off with her.

Although things had been rough between them lately, he had lived with the woman for eleven years and felt like he knew her better than anyone else in Storybrook. Since the curse ended, his mother had been overcompensating; trying to make the most of every second they spent together. Their usual rides home from school included constant conversation and even the occasional stops for ice-cream.

But, today, Regina was silent. She had barely managed to say hello to him—and she hadn't even asked how his day at school was.

But what he noticed even more, what was really bothering him, was her abnormally pale skin and the large, dark purple circles under her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He finally asked her.

"Nothing, honey" she insisted, making eye-contact with him through the car-mirror.

"You're lying," he rebutted. "You look weird today."

"I think I'm just coming down with a little cold, it's really nothing to worry about."

"Alright," he said. He was unsure if he should accept the excuse, but didn't know how else to press the issue. "You should drink orange juice."

"I will," she nodded, as they pulled into their driveway.

He noticed a smile creep back onto her face—and knew it was because he had shown genuine concern for her. For a moment, he felt better.

However, once they were inside, Henry immediately noticed that his mother's walk was wobbly. Her usually confident stride was nowhere to be seen as she walked slowly and carefully to the stairs.

"Are you okay?" He asked her again.

"Just tired," she explained. "I'm going to go rest while you get your homework done. Is that okay?"

"Of course," he agreed.

He began to follow his mom up the stairs, but she stopped him.

"Why don't you do your homework at the kitchen table? I don't want you to get any of my germs. It's best you stay away from me as much as possible."

Henry agreed and made his way to the kitchen. He really wasn't interested in getting sick. Once there, he unpacked his backup, grabbed a soda from the fridge and began his work.

About an hour later, Henry had completed all of his homework; except, of course, for the dreaded math worksheet that he had no desire to do. He sighed out loud as he realized his textbook was all the way upstairs. As much as he wanted to put it off, he knew it was time to suck it up and get it done.

He moped silently to himself as walked upstairs. His normally spotless room had gotten more than a little bit messy since his mom had stopped being so strict with him. The clutter made locating his math book a challenge; he made mental note that he should, at some point, stop taking advantage of how she no longer wanted to be such a firm disciplinary with him.

Henry's thoughts were interrupted by a disturbing sound; he could hear his mother coughing and gagging through the walls.

He instantaneously forgot about the textbook search as he was flooded with worry. He knew she had told him to stay away from her, but he didn't care about germs. He knew he needed to check on her.

He opened his mother's bedroom door and his eyes searched the room for her. When he didn't see her, he followed the sound of her cough to the bathroom.

The sight of her was shocking to his eleven-year old eyes. His found his mother, in her blue pajamas, sitting on the floor of the bathroom hunched over the toilet.

"Mom?"

"Henry," she looked at up him, clearly startled to see him. "You shouldn't be in here."

"This isn't a cold," he observed. "You need to go to the doctor!"

"I'm fine," she said in between coughs.

"You're _not _fine!" He yelled back at her. "Let me call Dr. Whale!"

"Dr. Whale wants to kill me," she reminded him.

Henry felt helpless as he looked at his mother sitting on the floor—he noticed she was in the same position she was when Emma jumped out of the well. Suddenly, he had a realization. He didn't know why he made the connection—but within seconds, it all seemed so obvious.

"This is because you absorbed all the magic, isn't it?"

"What?" Regina asked. "Of course it's not."

But Henry didn't believe her. He knew he was right; if there was one thing he was usually right about, it was magic.

He turned around, left the room, ran down the stairs and found the house phone. He quickly punched in the numbers to the sheriff's station.

"Emma," Henry screamed into the phone as soon as he heard her answer.

"What's wrong, kid?" Emma asked, instantly sensing the panic in her son's voice.

"My mom's really sick."

"What do you mean?"

"She's really pale. And she's been in the bathroom for like an hour and she's throwing up and..."

"Aw, Henry—it's flu season—but I should probably come pick you up, because you shouldn't stay in the house with her if she's that sick."

"No, Emma," Henry yelled at her, "you_ don't_ understand—I think she's sick from when she saved you and Snow."

"What?" Emma asked, confused.

"Remember? She absorbed all the magic and I think she's in…I don't know—I think she might be in trouble."

"I'll be right there."

Henry stood frozen after Emma hung up. He didn't know if it was better to wait in the kitchen or to force his way back upstairs. He was overwhelmed, because he knew his mom was right: Dr. Whale _did _want her dead. But he was also old enough, and smart enough, to know that she needed medical attention. And fast.

Instead of making a decision, he sat down and took deep breaths.

As soon as Emma got off the phone with Henry, she dialed her mother's number.

"Mom," she said, hearing Snow's voice pick up the phone, "I need you."

"What's going on?"

"Henry just called me and he thinks Regina is sick from when she got us out of the portal," she explained in a rushed and anxious voice. "I don't know what to do."

"I didn't know she could get sick from it," Snow said, as she digested what Emma was telling her. "I'm going to call Rumple. I'm sure he'll know…he'll know what to do."

"Thank you," Emma said. "But be careful with him."

"I will," Snow promised. "I'll call you back."

Emma jumped in her car; her hands were shaking as she put the keys in the ignition and started to drive. It seemed to her like Regina just couldn't catch a break-a break that, at this point, was well-deserved. But more than that, Emma felt like she couldn't lose Regina. As if Regina was some integral part of her life.

For the first time, she started to consider her mother's words as more than just a mere hypothesis.

Her foot aggressively hit the gas pedal and she speed off—to help her family.


	5. True & Right

**I just wanted to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I appreciate all the kind words. This is the second to last chapter. And after last night's heartbreaking episode, I think you guys should enjoy this. BIG hugs to the Swan Queen Nation & Evil Regals! 3 **

* * *

Emma burst through the doors of Regina's mansion and found Henry sitting at the kitchen table. From across the room, she noticed his tear-stained faced. She ran to her son and embraced him; trying to offer him the comfort he needed.

"Where is she?" Emma asked calmly, trying to stay strong for Henry's sake.

"Upstairs," Henry told her, "on the bathroom floor."

Emma gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before turning to make her way up the stairs.

"Emma wait," Henry abruptly stopped her.

"What is it?"

"I don't want anything to happen to her," he begged, "_please_."

"I know you don't—she'll be okay," Emma said and silently prayed she wasn't lying. "But I need you to stay down here."

"I want to do something to help," Henry protested. "I can help."

"I need you to stay down here because I need you to wait for Snow to call," Emma handed him her cell phone. "She's going to find out from Rumple what we can do to help your mom. As soon as you get the call, you can come upstairs and tell me what to do. Alright?"

"Do you really think he'll know how to help her?"

"He always has a way, doesn't he?"

"But it _always_ comes at a price," Henry reminded her. "And that's usually not a good thing…especially when it comes to my mom."

"This is about saving her life, kid. We will pay whatever price we have to, right? Whatever he asks, I'll take care of it. We're not going to let anything happen to her."

"Okay," Henry agreed. "Thank you."

"Now, I'm going to go take care of her in the meantime."

* * *

Emma found Regina on the bathroom floor exactly as Henry said she would. And although Emma had been prepared to see the mayor sick, she was shocked by just how dramatic the illness was. The sight of Regina with her eyes closed, head against the wall and body trembling shocked the sheriff to her very core.

"Regina," Emma gasped, the distress apparent in her voice.

"I knew that's where he was going," Regina mumbled as she opened her eyes.

"Where _who_ was going?" Emma asked as she knelt down on the floor.

"Henry," Regina clarified. "I knew he was going to call you."

"Well, _thank God_ he did."

"There's nothing you can do," Regina informed her. "You should just go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Emma insisted. "What…what's going on? What is this?"

Emma was sure of one thing: Henry was not exaggerating. This _wasn't _the flu—Regina truly looked like she was on her last breath.

"Regina," Emma said trying to get her to stay focused, "this is from absorbing all that magic, isn't it?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "It is."

"This is because you saved my life," Emma clarified.

"After trying to kill you a million times before."

"We are _not_ having this argument right now. I need you to tell me how to help you."

"You can't. There's nothing you can do. The magic is too powerful. I know because I created it."

"Fine….if you're not going to be helpful, I'll figure out a plan without you."

"There isn't a plan in the world left that can help me."

"Oh, there _is_ a plan. Need I remind you? I'm the savior—I will figure this out."

Emma spoke the words confidently, but inside she felt nothing but pure panic. She was trying to convince Regina that she had things under control, but she was also trying to convince herself.

"Alright," Emma declared. "Step one of the plan is getting you off the bathroom floor and into bed."

Regina was too weak and too tired to protest – so she simply nodded and allowed Emma to pick her up. She knew better than to waste the little energy she had trying to convince the savior that there was no hope.

Emma, while holding Regina in her arms, immediately noticed two things.

First, Regina was skin and bones. She didn't know how had failed to notice it before; those damn pant-suits, she realized, must have been hiding the weight-loss. She also realized that this didn't happen overnight. And that meant Regina had been sick, had been fighting an internal battle with this magic, since very moment Emma and Snow returned to Storybrook.

Second, she noticed that touching Regina wasn't sending magical properties to her fingers. Their magic-making connection was, for the moment, gone. Frankly, Emma didn't want to think about what that might mean. She feared, more than anything, that it meant Regina was fading fast.

Emma gently placed Regina in her bed and sat down next to her.

"This has been going on for a while, hasn't it?" She asked. "You've been sick since we got back."

Regina nodded; she pulled the blankets close as shivers ran down her spine.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Who would have helped?" Regina posed, answering Emma's question with a question.

Emma was suddenly uncontrollably angry.

She was angry at this godforsaken town. For a bunch of fairytale characters, they lacked a single fiber of empathy. It was absolutely infuriating that she couldn't get the help Regina needed because so many people would rejoice in the former-queen's death.

Even worse, she was angry that no one, including herself, thought to check what impact the magic from the portal had on Regina.

But, mostly, she was angry at the universe.

She just couldn't comprehend why this was happening now. Regina Mills had finally done something completely selfless and all she was receiving in return was pain.

"Stop accepting this," Emma yelled at her. "You can't leave….you can't leave Henry; he loves you."

"He loves _you_," Regina said, grabbing Emma's hand. "Which is _exactly_ why I can accept this. You're going to make sure he's okay."

"No, we are just starting to make this work—we need you._ I_ need you."

Emma sat helplessly by Regina as she watched the mayor close her eyes. Out of nowhere, she heard the unexpected sound of her mother's voice from downstairs.

"Emma!" Snow yelled. "We're here!"

"Come up here," She replied. "And hurry!"

Within seconds, her parents, son and Rumple all entered the room.

"We got here as fast as we could," Snow explained, out of breath.

Henry, upon seeing his mother in bed with shut eyes, grabbed onto his grandmother and began to cry.

"Rumple," Emma exclaimed, getting up in his face, "this is your fault. _You_ convinced her Cora would come through the portal. So _you_ tell me what to do to help her."

"I'm afraid, dearie, I cannot be of assistance."

"That _isn't_ true," Emma rebutted, once again resisting the urge to punch Rumple in the face. "What's the price? You always have a price and I will pay _anything_, do anything-I'll give you anything."

"You don't seem to understand," Rumple stated. "I told Regina what the price would be for absorbing the magic that day at the well. That's why this is happening. It was her life—her life for yours. She made the choice—it's a miracle she's lasted this long."

"There has to be another way," Emma pleaded. "There is always a loop-hole with magic—there's always some way to fix things."

"Unfortunately, for most people, there would be—but Regina is…pure evil."

"You and I both know that's _not_ true."

"Well, there is only one thing that could defeat magic this strong. And Regina…she doesn't exactly have anyone who can provide her with a true love's kiss, now does she? So, it would appear my normal suggestion is rather unhelpful in our current situation."

"Emma," Snow looked at her daughter and repeated Rumple's words, "true love's kiss."

"Mom," she protested, not in the mood to deal with her mother's theories. "I don't think _that's_ a realistic option."

"She's your son's mother….just try. Are you telling me it's not worth a try?"

Emma was all out of options—and Rumple was clearly not in a accommodating mood.

So, Emma walked back to the bed, leaned down and kissed Regina Mills.

As she did, she felt the now-familiar feeling of magic gush through her veins.

When she pulled away, she watched, in awe as Regina sprung back up and gasped for air.

Emma didn't know who, exactly, in the room looked the most confused.

Rumple, stood with a bemused smirk on his face and she could've sworn she heard him mutter _"we'll, I'll be damned."_

Charming, her father, had his mouth hanging open. Snow grabbed his hand and whispered _"I told you so," _just loud enough for her to catch.

Henry, though his eyes lit up at the sight of color rushing back to his mother's face, looked as though he might just fall down on the ground.

But it was Regina, Emma knew, who was truly perplexed. She watched Regina, who had accepted her death, take deep breaths-cherishing the oxygen making its way to her lungs. She watched Regina feel her own lips, wondering why they were moist.

"What…what happened?" Regina asked, looking around the room.

"Emma saved you!" Henry rejoiced as he launched himself onto the bed and threw his arms around his mother.

"Take it easy, kid," Emma warned. "Your mom just beat death. Go easy on her; she might still be a little tired."

"That's alright," Regina promised. "I want him here."

Emma nodded, understanding.

"You saved me?" Regina questioned, holding Henry in her arms. "How?"

"She _kissed _you," Henry interjected. "Just like when she saved me."

"It was Snow's idea," Emma said, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed.

"It only works if it's true love," Snow diligently reminded everyone.

"Well," Rumple added, "I have to admit even_ I_ didn't see that coming."

"Henry," Snow said, "I know you're happy to see your mom—but I think Emma is right…she might need to rest and get back some of her strength. Why don't we let Emma take care of her for a little while?"

"You're right," Henry agreed. He turned to Regina and smiled. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Emma knew what Snow was doing—she was leaving them alone to talk. It was a talk that was necessary—but it was also a terrifying concept.

"Mom, wait" Emma said, running over to her Snow; she felt the need to embrace her—for being so very right at exactly the right time.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you_ so_ much."


	6. Finally

**This is the last chapter-thank you to EVERYONE who read, reviewed and followed. I honestly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I REALLY do love the Swan Queen nation so much and, majority of the time, I wish we wrote this show. I think that the rest of season two is going to be a bumpy ride for us-but at least we have each other. Adam and Eddie can try to blow holes in our ship but we'll keep sailing on. xoxoxo. **

* * *

Emma and Regina could hear Snow, Charming and Henry puttering around downstairs. Despite this knowledge, they were both painfully aware of how alone they were in Regina's bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Regina promised her. She could feel her strength coming back to her with each passing second—though beads of sweat still dripped from her forehead. "I'm just... I feel exhausted."

"I would imagine _dying_ could do that. You look much better though," Emma assured her, as she sat down on the bed. "You really...you scared me. And if you ever again doubt how much Henry loves you…I will gladly remind you of the look on his face when he saw how sick you were. "

"I'm sorry," Regina quietly offered.

"The _only_ thing you should be sorry about is failing to mention that this was going on."

"I really didn't think anything could be done—and magic is so unpredictable here, I didn't know how much time I had or didn't have. I just wanted to be with Henry as much as possible and I didn't want him to worry."

"I get it—I do."

Regina nodded, grateful Emma didn't feel the need to push the subject any further; awkward silence filled the air as they both avoided eye contact. It was abundantly clear that they were rapidly approaching the moment that they would have to talk about it—talk about the fact that Emma had saved Regina's life with a kiss reserved for true love.

"So," Emma began, unsure of how to start the conversation, "um,"

"Thank you," Regina quickly interrupted. "Even if it was Snow's idea, you didn't have to listen to her. I don't know if I would have believed her theories. You didn't have to try. "

"Of _course_ I did…I meant what I said to you. Things are just starting to make sense- with us and with Henry. I wasn't about to lose you- or let him lose you for that matter."

"Thank you," she repeated.

"What I honestly don't understand though," Emma thought out loud, "is how my mom knew it would work when I didn't. I mean, she was just _so_ sure."

"Mother's intuition?"

"I guess so."

"And personal experience," Regina reminded her. "She would know better than most, I suppose."

"I just didn't know magic could even work like that."

"What do you mean? Like what?"

"Well, from what I know of my parents...they were already madly in love when my dad woke my mom up from the sleeping curse..."

"Not so convinced you love me?" Regina asked, trying to hide her insecurity.

She looked down at her hands, afraid to know the answer. Regina honestly didn't know why the kiss had worked and if there hadn't been four witnesses in the room, she wasn't so sure she would even believe it.

More importantly, she didn't know why she was so happy about it or why wanted Emma Swan to love her. But she did, in fact, want Emma Swan to love her—and the possibility that she didn't was too much to handle.

"Regina, I know you were too busy being dead and everything to notice- but I literally almost strangled Rumpelstiltskin at the thought of something happening to you."

"Wanting to strangle Rumpel is a relatively common phenomenon where I'm from."

"I _know_ I love you," Emma clarified. "I'm saying that I'm glad the magic, or whatever, worked…because until that moment when I thought you were gone, I didn't realize how much I need you around. I'm glad the magic knew what I didn't know myself."

Emma stared at Regina—and waited for her to respond. When she didn't, when she remained silent, Emma continued speaking. "I've been drawn to you- for reasons I couldn't understand or explain- for a long time. I guess it all makes sense now."

"A lot of things make sense now," Regina finally muttered.

"What?"

"When you first got here, I was _so _angry at you. I mean, I was insanely angry at you; for pulling Henry away from me, for being the savior, for ruining everything I worked so hard to build here—but I think what got to me the most was that, despite all of it, I couldn't seem to hate you. "

"I could never seem to hate you either; no matter what you did or what people told me about you."

"I wanted you gone because I didn't want to confront any of this. I couldn't even contemplate the fact that I actually enjoyed your company. I mean, you're Snow White's daughter."

"I don't know if you'll want to hear this but I can't help but think of how much it reminds me of my parents—they didn't exactly trust each other in the beginning either."

Emma's comparison made Regina lose her breath. And before she knew what was happening, she was in tears.

"I'm sorry," Regina shook, "I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?"

"It's like I told Henry-I don't know how to love very well. I did once, but it was a long time ago and I didn't think I'd ever need to know how to again. I didn't think I would need to be a person who knew how to love."

"Just for the record, you do a perfectly good job of loving Henry."

"I _want_ to be able to do this, Emma. I mean this is what I always wanted—what drove me mad was watching your mom get her true love after taking away what I thought was mine. And now, here I am, having a second chance dropped in my lap and I don't even know what to do with it."

"Do you think you're talking to some expert on letting people in? I'm probably just as bad, if not worse, at this than you are."

"You think you're worse at love than the evil queen?"

"I think I, at least, give you some pretty stiff competition."

Emma smirked and raised her eyebrows which Regina caused to smile through her tears.

"Hey, by the way," Emma added, "do you think we could put a moratorium on the evil queen talk? I know it's a part of you—but it's not who you are here—it's certainly not who you are to me and it's not who you are to Henry."

"Okay… I'd like that," Regina consented. She took a deep breath before continuing, "and who, exactly, _am I_ to you?"

"I think we have a lot of things to figure out, including that. But I also have this feeling like we're kindred spirits, or something."

"Kindred spirits?" Regina asked, unfamiliar with the terminology.

"I think we're the same, in a lot of ways. Which I guess seems counter-intuitive. But we've both been through hell and back and we've come out stronger. And I think that it makes sense that whoever decides these things would conclude that we're supposed to be together."

"I think they call it fate."

"Fate," Emma agreed. "I know you're important to me—I know I care, desperately, about what happens to you-I know you're Henry's mother—and I think we can figure the rest out from there."

Regina felt like her voice was trapped in her chest. Still, she managed to let out a breathy "Okay," in response to Emma's proposition. She also, before she could even understand what she was doing, allowed her head to rest against Emma's shoulder. Emma responded by placing an arm securely around her waist. The contact caused more water to fall from Regina's eyes. But at least, for the first time in a long time, she had someone there to wipe away the tears.

* * *

Hours later, Regina was awoken by the sound of two light knocks against her bedroom door. She sat up and looked around as she tried to remember when, exactly, she had fallen asleep. Lying next to her, still wearing jeans and a t-shirt, was Emma Swan. Suddenly, Regina remembered the savior, _her savior_, encouraging her to close her eyes and rest.

She heard a third knock on the door. "Henry?" She asked.

"No, it's me" Snow replied. "Can I come in?"

"Okay," Regina agreed, unsure what else to do but grant her former-enemy permission to enter.

Snow slowly opened the door and let herself in. "How do you feel?" She asked; she walked a few steps closer to Regina's bed, but managed to simultaneously keep a comfortable distance.

"Much better now."

"I'm so glad," Snow said. "I just wanted to tell you that we are going to head home."

"What time is it?" Regina asked in a hushed voice.

"It's midnight. Oh and, by the way, you don't have to whisper. Emma can literally sleep through anything. And I mean anything."

"Good to know," Regina replied as she glanced uncomfortably at Emma. It was hard for her to process the reality she was living in—but she was trying her best not to over-think it. "Where _is_ Henry?"

"He's sound asleep in his room."

"Is he doing okay? I didn't even say good-night to him."

"He's great….but, um, you two are going to have a quite the handful tomorrow morning."

"Why is that?"

"He was asking Charming _a million_ questions about true love and kisses."

"Well," Regina said, "that should certainly be an interesting conversation to have with our eleven year old."

"You know," Snow smiled, "it's starting to feel like we are just destined to be family. I don't think we can escape it…no matter how hard either one of us tries to fight it."

"It _does_ seem that way, doesn't it?"

"And, maybe..." Snow began, seemingly unsure of her words.

"What?"

"I'm not saying I would want to relive through this curse; I definitely wouldn't have chosen it. But...I don't know,...maybe we can all be happy here."

"I truly hope that is the case," Regina answered. "And for what it's worth... I am...sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

"For what, dear?"

"For what you've been through. All of it- with your mom and Daniel. I really am sorry. We've all suffered; I think it's time for that to end."

"Thank you," Regina said, "and thank you for being...for being okay about this...with Emma."

"Honestly," Snow sighed, "I want to forget the past-not in a 'pretend it didn't happen' sort of way...but in a 'it really doesn't matter anymore' way. Because what's happening now has the potential to be wonderful, I think."

"I think so, too."

"Good-night, Regina. I'm sure we'll be seeing you soon."

"Good-night," she replied as she watched Snow exit the room.

When she was alone again, Regina tried to settle beneath her blankets. It was the first time since the day's events that she was totally alone with her thoughts.

She truly wished she could remember the feeling of Emma's lips against her own—but all she remembered was the feeling of death raging throughout her body. Still, it was in _that _hopeless moment where she had finally been sorry for inflicting such intense pain onto others. All she had ever wanted was to _feel _again—to win at something. She never wanted to lose control.

She thought about her father—who had paid the ultimate price to bring her to this moment.

She thought about her mother—who she would try to forgive, though she would never be able to forget the anguish that relationship brought her.

She thought about Daniel—and how for the first time she could picture a life beyond the life she had imagined for them.

She thought about her son—sleeping peacefully in the next room—and how he was the catalyst for all of this change.

She thought about Emma—and how good it was to have someone who she could rely on, who understood her.

Regina Mills finally felt like she was ready to accept the past—to take ownership of it.

But more importantly, she felt like she was ready to fully embrace the future.


End file.
